


Training A Paladin

by defyaugury



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: M/M, Rape, Smut, but also some good klance fluff, lots of lance angst, non-con, so so much smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-23
Updated: 2017-05-23
Packaged: 2018-11-03 21:50:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,485
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10976031
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/defyaugury/pseuds/defyaugury
Summary: When Lance finds himself as a Galran's new pet, he quickly learns that all pets need to be trained.





	Training A Paladin

 

The first thing Lance thought when he woke was that his head hadn't hurt this bad since he and Hunk had eaten those weird mushrooms on a planet called Eroes eight lunar cycles ago. With each painful throb, he thought his skull would split open. It didn't take him long to find that the rest of his body wasn't in a much better state. Everything from his calves to his shoulders ached unlike any training he'd survived in the Castle of Lions. 

 

With a groan, Lance managed to open his eyes, dragging himself out of his groggy stupor. If he was hurting this much, it meant he'd never made it to a sleeping pod, and whatever that meant, he knew it couldn't be good.When he tried to move, Lance found his wrists bound above his head. With a glance down, he saw that his armor was gone. As the world came into focus, Lance could finally see the room he was in. It was dark, everything painted the same black and Galra purple he'd come to recognize and fear. Along one wall, a collection of what looked like weapons sat glinting in the light. Along another, a horde of chains hung from the wall and ceiling. A wooden table sat in the middle. 

 

With a jolt, Lance realized where he was. This wasn't a Galra prison chamber. This was a torture room.

 

Panic crashed down on him like nothing he'd ever felt before. His first instinct was to shout, only to find that he was gaged, his throat keening against the high tech metal rod clamped across his face. He thrashed, the chains on his wrists digging into his skin. His head throbbed like he was dying, but he didn't care. He needed to get out of here. He needed to escape. He was in Galra territory now, and there was no telling what was going to happen to him.

 

After a few moments, what was left of Lance's strength died out and he fell against his bonds, panting heavily. Okay, okay, he needed to calm down. This wasn't like him. He didn't panic at the first sign of danger; he wasn't Keith. What was it that Shiro always said?  _Patiences yields fortitude._ Or something like that, anyways.

 

Lance heaved a few deep breaths, forcing his heartbeat to slow. He needed to stay calm, it was the only way he'd find a way out of here. After a few steady breaths, Lance was able to take in more of his surroundings. His eyes roamed the corners and seams of the room, looking for any weaknesses. But Galra tech was high grade stuff—almost as good as what they had on the Castle of Lions. Lance couldn't even find a seam for a door to fit, or a panel in the floor he could pry loose.

 

A quick personal inventory told Lance the Galra had taken his bayard and the knife he'd hidden away—a habit he'd picked up from Keith, or rather, Keith had forced upon him and the other paladins. Lance shuddered at the thought of some Galran soldier feeling him up to find his weapons, but there really wasn't anything he could do about that now.

 

With a couple of strategic tugs of his wrists, Lance found his restraints to be holding strong. And it's not like he could easily pick the lock like Keith or Shiro. Tilting his head up, he couldn't even tell where the lock was.

 

He didn't even have a pair of shoes he could kick at someone with. Only his black, useless—although he had to admit slimming—paladin suit.

 

Lance let out a frustrated sigh and let his head fall forward. His arms were beginning to ache being held so far above his head for so long and the gag was drying out his mouth. As far as he could see, he had no way out of this place—not on his own at least.

 

Lance tried to wrack his brain, to remember what had happened to put him in this situation to begin with, but all he was getting was fuzzy images. Not that it mattered much, Keith and the others would come to his rescue soon—just as they'd gone to save Allura when  _she'd_ been captured by Galra goons. 

 

Unless—a jolt of panic struck Lance's heart. Unless the reason Lance was even here was because Voltron had lost and the Galra had finally succeeded in capturing the lions. Panic began to raise in Lance again. Shiro. Pidge. Hunk. Keith. If they—were they—they couldn't be  _dead_ , could they?

 

Lance shook his head furiously at himself. No. No, that couldn't be a possibility. If the others were dead, what reason would Zarkon have for keeping him alive? What insight could he possibly give that a previous paladin wouldn't already know himself?

 

So no. The others couldn't be dead—they just  _couldn't_ —Lance refused to believe it. And if that was the case, then that meant his team would come swooping in to save him at any moment. And he just had to hold on through this Galran torture until they arrived.

 

Lance had to force the lump in his throat down. Whatever "Galran torture" meant.

 

Lance nearly jumped out of his skin when he heard the swoop of automatic doors sliding open behind him. Lance tried to twist around, to see his captor face-to-face, only to find his bonds wouldn't let him move far enough to see. He tried to say something, only to have his teeth hit the metal of his gag. The heels of what sounded like expensive, shiny shoes clicked across smooth tiles and Lance couldn't help as his heart picked up a staccato beat. 

 

It was okay. He told himself. The others would be here soon, so whatever was coming, he could survive until then. He was strong. He was a _paladin_ of _Voltron_ for crying out loud. If he couldn't handle a little torture, then what use was he? He'd survive this just like he'd survived a bomb and Coran's cooking and everything else before. Compared to that, this was nothing.

 

The clicking of heels on tile came to a stop and Lance could feel an ominous presence hovering just behind him, but he managed to keep calm. He was going to be fine. Everything was going to be fine.

 

Then a warm breath ghosted across Lance's ear.

 

"So," came a soft voice. "A paladin of Voltron, all to myself."

 

Lance's heart stopped. 

 

His eyes rolled madly as he tried to look around and see who was speaking to him, but he didn't need to see the face to know who it was. The cool, calm tone, the infuriating arrogance—he recognized it all too well, and that, beyond anything else, terrified him.

 

Lance flinched as long, purple fingers came up to gently drag along his jawline. His skin crawled at the touch.

 

"My informants tell me that you're the talkative one," came the voice again.

 

A second hand gripped Lance's hip from behind and his eyes bulged. Panic sung through is veins as he tried to pull away. To pull away from that touch and that voice and the overwhelming panic they brought.

 

"Hmmm," the voice chuckled. "I can believe them, with how much you were muttering in your sleep. That's why I had to gag you, you know."

 

The fingers on his face moved up to trace where Lance's metal gag was digging in to his skin. The hand on his hip, however, was starting to move south, each and every movement amplified by the thinness of his paladin suit. Lance tried to buck away, to desperately move away from the unwanted touch, but his restraints held fast.

 

"So, tell me, paladin, how does it feel?" the voice asked, cool lips pressing against his ear. "To be abandoned by your team and devoid of your lion—the only thing in this universe that made you special?"

 

The hand finally found its mark, slipping between Lance's legs, gripping at his groin fully.

 

Lance froze, eyes wide, breathing hard through his nose. He could feel the hand and knew exactly who it belonged to. He could feel his restraints digging into his wrists and knew there was no chance of escape.

 

The hand caressed his groin, rocking between his legs and Lance choked out a sob. His arms still ached and his head still pounded, but none of it mattered anymore. 

Because this was it. This was where the universe ended.

 

"Hmmm," the voice purred and the hand's hold turned vice-like. "Go on, paladin. What is it like to be truly, truly alone?"

 

With that, there came click and the gag split open and slid back, freeing Lance's mouth.

 

"Tell me," the voice hissed.

 

Lance screamed.

 

His only answer was Prince Lotor's laugh, echoing against faceless walls.

 


End file.
